Living on the outside

Always looking in.

Staying on the outskirts,

Not knowing where to go.

Take a look around

At the ones, on the inside.

They're calling all the shots,

They think they've got it made.

Soon the foolish fall,

All at once it's gone.

There is no inside or out,

Black or white,

Rich or poor.

It's all the same,

That box is broken

And we're all just a different shade of grey.